


Semi-conscious Sonder

by mypoorfaves



Series: Shorter drabbles [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Post Season 1, st petersburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mypoorfaves/pseuds/mypoorfaves
Summary: sonder n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited crazinessor;Yuuri is exhasted from training and takes a moment to relax





	Semi-conscious Sonder

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a sickfic based on the prompt “It’s not like you to be in bed this early,” but I ended up creating something lighter instead. It’s not a sick fic, and it’s not even all that whumpy, but I like it.

Yuuri drags his feet along the hardwood floor of the apartment feeling heavier than a bag of bricks. Or maybe that’s the backpack weighing on his shoulders. Trudging along, he turns the knob to the bedroom door and pushes it open mechanically, his eyes barely opened and his mind focused only on not collapsing on the spot.

 

He shrugs the backpack off, his skates landing with an audible thud. His jacket comes off next. One hand unzips, and the other pulls it off from one sleeve and drops it limply. He toes off his shoes and leaves them where they land. A small piece of Japanese culture ever-ingrained in him is screaming at him for walking this far into the house with his shoes still on, and then proceeding to leave them so haphazardly on the floor. Normally Yuuri is good about keeping a clean house and having his belongings in place, but he can’t be made to care today.

 

He’s still wearing his training clothes from his time at the rink. His pants are cozy at least, but his shirt is soaked with sweat and clings uncomfortably to his skin. He was too tired to change at the rink, and he’s too tired to change now. He takes off his glasses and places the frames upside down on the nightstand and promptly topples onto the bed face-first with a groan. He lays there for a moment without moving, then worms the rest of his body onto the bed he and Victor share and brings his head to the pillow, turning onto his back.

 

The window above the bed is open and lets in a faint breeze, giving Yuuri’s sweaty body chills in the best and most refreshing way. The curtains are drawn, but the sunlight streams through the thin fabric and illuminates the room in a soft yellow glow. It’s far too early to turn in for the day, but it feels heavenly to just lay there. The wind caresses the curtain and when it lifts away from the window Yuuri can see the clear blue sky dotted with the occasional fluffy cloud as it rolls by. He can hear the sounds of the town, cars driving by and people bustling and going about their daily lives. Yuuri feels an immense wave of sonder wash over him as he takes a deep breath, savouring the crisp spring air.

 

Victor is still at the rink. He had finished coaching Yuuri for the day so he sent his student home. While Yuuri would have normally loved to have stayed to watch Victor’s practice, the Russian had said he wanted to surprise Yuuri with a new routine and didn’t want him watching this time around. Every opportunity Yuuri had to watch his fiance skate was a breathtakingly beautiful gift, but Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to complain about not being able to watch this time around. Today, being sent home to rest and relax until Victor returned was a blessing.

 

It had been a brutal training session. Victor had him practicing every jump on his roster in a skating drill from hell. They started with singles: toe loop up to axel, then moved on to doubles in the same order, then triples, and any quads he could currently land in competition. If Yuuri touched down or messed up the rotation, they would start from the beginning of the rotational group. If Yuuri badly flubbed a jump, they would start from the very top at single toe again. By the end of it, Yuuri’s thighs were on fire, his feet were raw and aching and he was left doubled over and panting even with his acclaimed stamina.

 

Just thinking about it again makes Yuuri’s eyes droop. He wonders what kind of training Victor is doing right now. He would have to ask him when he gets back. For now, he closes his eyes with a content sigh. The wind continues to flutter and ruffle the curtains, and the clouds drift in the clear blue sky as Yuuri welcomes the bliss found in a quick nap.

**Author's Note:**

> Huh, I just realized this is the first thing I’ve written with no dialogue whatsoever. (Writing level up!) It’s also my shortest work at about 650 words.
> 
> I could keep going with this and write a sickfic follow-up, now that I think about it: Victor comes home to Yuuri who ends up coming down with a cold. I'll work on it!


End file.
